I hope you don't mind indulging me for just a moment.
What is it about the seas? From the icy north Atlantic to the vast expanses of the Pacific; to the breadth of the Indian Ocean and the polar Artic; to the warmth of our own Caribbean and Gulf, the seas were a mystery to the ancients. I think the seas hold a mystery to me, even today.
I woke up early after our first night in our stateroom, quietly dressed, and crept out on the "secret deck," the deck 7 aft overlook. It wasn't supposed to be unlocked until 7 a.m., but it was open nonetheless. There was no land in sight. I pulled up a deck chair to the rail and gazed toward the horizon. The wake of our ship churned the water and offered up a muted roar.
Here, I thought, is balm for all the worry and bustle of the world. It may be true for all mariners. Certainly it is true - for me, anyway - on this most perfect of ships, on a perfect morning. Even though the Wonder stretched and throbbed and pressed forward, I was struck by the vastness around me ... no matter how large the vessel, the sea is always larger.
I was reminded of the old French fisherman's prayer ... "Dear God, protect me. The sea is so big and my boat is so small."
And as I sat, I was treated to this:
What a sweet epiphany I experienced. I felt as though this sunrise was just for me.
I caught myself singing under my breath (and being thankful no one else was around). It was an old hymn, which I found especially poignant this early dawn:
Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
I went back to the cabin. The girls were still asleep. A busy day was ahead. But I felt that this moment, this precious time alone (ok, I don't think I was
totally alone) was the reason I was fortunate enough to participate in this cruise.
I trust you find your special moment, too, and that it is transcendent as mine.